Cooking Lessons
by Flaming Black Skull
Summary: I drew in smoke from my cigarette as I listened to her ramble on. The poison filled my lungs deliciously before I let it out of my mouth in snake-like tendrils. The white ribbons of death caressed my face like an old lover before dissipating into the purple twilight. Her big brown eyes stopped to watch the smoke rise before my voice brought her back to attention.
1. Chapter 1

I believed love would be this instantaneous and sudden forest fire of passion in my heart; however getting to know the petite farmer really challenged that construct. It's hard to pinpoint when exactly I started to fall for her, but by the time I realized I had, I wasn't too bothered by it. Eventually, I got over how underwhelming the whole thing was. You see, I had wrongly assumed love – true love, If I must – was supposed to be this all-consuming thing; and if it wasn't, then it would eventually pass. The difference between infatuation and love and all that. The flaw in my logic, I suppose, was that I didn't realize that love – and forest fires – began with a single spark.

It was simple, really. How we met, I mean. There wasn't any 'magic' in the air, there was no fireworks or cherry blossoms blowing in the wind. It was a greeting, plain and short.

"Hello." She said to me, her big brown doe eyes gazing up to meet my face. She was a head shorter than me, but_ then_ I didn't find it endearing. _Then_ I didn't think she was beautiful. Back when we met, she was this plain-jane stranger. This was before I heard her laugh, saw her smile. The moment she came into my life, I felt nothing for her.

Today it's a little hard to believe that I saw nothing in her eyes, no spark of the future or the events that led up to the present day. In romance movies there's always that moment of 'connection' between the two main characters; a brush of the hand, a few seconds of eye contact, accidentally getting in the same cab and what have you, but for Hikari and I there was nothing- no real defining moment.

In a way, I think that makes our love all the more true and real; There was no tension in the beginning, just simple friendship. It's what we both needed at the time; someone who understood us on an individual level. That intimate understanding is perhaps the most central thing about our relationship. It makes what we had special.

I suppose I should probably start at the beginning, right?

It was a normal day like any other – Well, as normal as it could get during those days. The town was going through some things at the time, but those sorts of things had been going on for so long that we all almost forgot how it had been before. It was rough, but after she came along it seemed like things went into proper balance again. Not just the town, but the people who lived there, too.

Castanet is a small coastal town nestled in the valley between mountains and rolling hills. It's always been a pretty quiet town, even with the steady flow of tourists the landscape brought. The people who live here seem simple, though through experience I've learned that some of them are not quite as they seem on the surface.

In many ways, the story of Hikari and I is not just one about ourselves; it involves the whole town. Some more than others, but nevertheless: Hikari touched the lives of each and every person in Castanet; I was just one of the few she loved the most.

I was probably her worst critic and toughest adversary in the beginning. I found her to be too naïve of the world that she lived in. It seemed to me she was _blinded_ by some impossible fantasy that one person could fix so much that was wrong in so little time. What could she do that all of us couldn't? She was fanciful, passive-aggressive, and weak. I didn't hate her or even dislike her, and I know it seems like I did. In all honesty, I envied her. The can-do spirit was one I never had been possessed by. I didn't understand it then, and I still don't really understand it now.

It wasn't until I saw progress that I started to believe in her. I'm a cynic, so I don't believe in anything unless I see it for myself. When I saw what sort of power she had – and I mean inner strength and all that – I became her biggest supporter. She was special. If anyone could make a difference and make the town better, it was her.

When I say she was special, I don't mean it in any fanciful way either. Hikari is and was a plain woman – Our first impressions of each other had not been entirely wrong; but she was _different_. Not different in a way that made her better or worse than anyone I'd met before, but she had something inside of her that I hadn't experienced then or since.

I know it's very easy to build up someone you love, so I realize that I may not be the most... _Trustworthy_ source of information; but I was there the most and therefore have the most to say. I was there from the beginning right up until the very end. The journey we took was one full of hardships and woe, but in the end it had all been worth it.

Now that I am nearing the end, it's time to reflect. I can't change what happened, nor the blisters I got on my hands and feet and heart from the adventure, but it's nice to sit at the top and trace the paths I've taken. Some weren't so pleasant, some had breathtaking views, others still I remember traveling on and I thought I'd never reach the next bend...But I did. And now I'm here.

My name is Chase, and this is the story of how one woman changed the lives and hearts of a whole town.

Including mine.

I had hardened my heart to the world back when I was a young boy. I was unsatisfied with humanity in its entirety.

My mother had always seemed to be a cold woman even before I had been born, and I never knew my father – but I had been told that I was the spitting image of him. It must have been hard to raise a child that looked like someone you loved and lost, and as a result, my mother had always been rather distant. I'm not even sure if she loved me or just tolerated me. It never really bothered me, since it's difficult to feel loss for something you never really had. Anyways, she passed away while I was in my freshman year of college from heart and lung complications; the woman smoked like a chimney and had passed down her unsavory habit to me.

I took a week off of school to clear out my childhood home of everything and to settle her affairs. I put the things that I wanted to keep in a storage locker and everything else was either taken by other family members or donated. Thankfully the woman had taken out a rather substantial life insurance policy and that wiped out all my debt that accumulated while I was in college, as well as leaving me a bit of a proverbial nest egg for when I graduated.

I had graduated with top honors in culinary arts as well as received all proper certifications. When I sought out more training I landed up finding a famous chef by the name of Yolanda working in some small town called Castanet. She had all but hung up her apron by the time I came into contact with her. She had once been talented and beautiful and sought after in five star restaurants all over the city, but with age she lost her beauty. All she had left was her talent, and restaurants - desiring a face to put with their names flocked to fledgling chefs who had no more than half of her gift for food. I came right out and told her that I was not interested in fame or fortune, that those things didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. I had a passion for cooking: I was interested in honing my craft and becoming better at presentation and creation. When I asked her if I could become her apprentice she was delighted. I made necessary arrangements, packed up my apartment, and left for Castanet.

I had been working for her during the day and making more money as the chef for the local bar during the evenings. It was one of first times I ever really remember being happy about waking up and going about my day. I was in the kitchen ninety percent of the time doing what I knew, loved, and did best. When things started to go haywire I barely noticed.

It wasn't until we were running low on supplies for food that I started paying attention. The local farms could barely produce enough food for themselves to survive, let alone sell to us. The crops just weren't growing like they used to. Some people left to find solutions, others hunkered down and tried to continue as if everything was normal. Truth be told: that should have been the first sign. I figured that it was just a bad harvest or something to do with the luck of the draw and a bad hand being dealt, but when it continued on into the next season with worsening forecasts I knew something was terribly wrong.

People where outraged. They started flocking to the Mayor's office demanding he do something to help. He sent his son out to do some research, but it didn't come up fruitful. Meanwhile, the water quality started suffering and then the wind somehow weakened. Some weeks there wouldn't be even one small breeze to power the windmills. Electricity was rationed and so were any products that had to be milled.

I figured by then that there was something bigger going on – not just our town, but something wrong with the land itself. Nothing at this point could be done that didn't involve scientists or anything short of a miracle. When the fires stopped lighting in our kitchens and our potbellied stoves it was the last straw. Winter was coming and we couldn't even make soup or warm stews. Families huddled in their homes struggling to keep warm with almost no food in their cupboards and many were already thinking about leaving once spring came.

When spring finally did come, I had officially been in Castanet for two years, but I had only received one and a half years of training. During the most desperate winter months I often thought about leaving. I wasn't needed at the bar as much since nobody could light the stove, and Yolanda couldn't train me properly due to the same reasons. I was barely living as it was, but I could never bring myself to pack up. It seemed wrong. I didn't want to give up and start from square one. I even sort of liked living there; even though I knew it wasn't in my long term plans to stay permanently.

When the snow melted and a few flowers dared to bloom in the sandy earth, Hikari came. I heard that she came by cart humbly, with only a bag or two to her name and hardly enough money to scrape by. Nobody knew why she would come to a place as forsaken as our town; even the tourists had stopped coming. Did she expect to make money? The town was crumbling; the subject of many news stories and paper clippings. Jobs were scarce at best, the old bridge coming from Garmon Mines had recently collapsed during the snow melt with hardly any people or supplies to fix it, and the people who had considered disbanding were unable to do so once spring finally came because they were separated from their family or stranded on the opposite side of the bridge.

She bought up the old farmstead and began working as quickly as the day she came. She even helped repair the bridge within a week of her arrival. I think the bridge being fixed was the first sign she could be the town's savior, and I think that's why nobody decided to leave.

With a new farm and a new customer who needed many things on a day to day basis, the town started to pick up and- Well. Maybe I should stop here and go back a little. I talked about how we met but I never went into detail, and I feel like if I skim over even one or two exchanges between us that it would lessen the story and detract from her importance. If I only summarize what happened then it'll be an injustice to both Hikari and the town.

Let me go back to the day we met.

I said before that I am a cynical man. I feel that I must say that I never believed in the Harvest Goddess. In many ways I still don't. The point is, when I met Hikari I was mysteriously drawn to the church on top of the hill that day.

My bones ached as I climbed the steps. My brain was screaming that going to some building with fabricated importance wasn't going to help me make my final decision on weather or not to stay. I knew in my heart of hearts that making the trek wasn't going to fix anything or ease my troubles, and with that mindset I couldn't bring myself to go inside. I wandered around the small plaza in the shadow of the church, occasionally looking down the steps at the town below or over the cliff at the ocean that was slowly eating away at the bottom of the rock the holy ground stood on. Once or twice I thought about throwing myself off one of the two to end my suffering, though they were fleeting and mostly unfounded.

In many stories this would be the part that I say that I felt like my life was about to change or I would be turning over a new leaf soon. I'm sorry to disappoint, but I felt nothing of the sort. I felt that this would go on and on and I'd eventually leave with the other townsfolk to find greener pastures, continue on with my life soon – just not here.

And then she tapped me on the shoulder. At first I thought it might be the young priest inquiring about my presence or maybe even the widower who frequented the church since her husband's passing, but it was neither. When I turned around I saw nothing but the air above her head and a wisp of her mousy brown hair.

"Hello." She whispered quietly, and her big eyes moved up to meet mine. I had often been told my eyes were like my fathers; the violet shade was piercing and unsettling but was made less harsh by the sleepy shape the eyelids created. That was one thing I hated about myself: I always looked tired. She seemed intimidated by my stature and my closed body language, but she made no move to leave.

"Hey." I finally grunted, starting to feel annoyed by her presence.

"I'm Hikari." She said, her voice only a bit louder then before. "I'm new in town, so I'm introducing myself to everyone. I'll be running the old farm just outside of town."

"Chase." I held my hand out to her, and she grabbed it with shaky fingers. "I'm a chef at the bar. Well, I used to be, at least. Fires won't light up so I don't do much cooking these days."

"...Yes...I've heard you're having... Strange problems in town?"

"That makes it sound better than it is." I muttered. Her eyes went to her feet.

"I hope I can help." Her hands went behind her back.

"You? What can you do?" I raised my eyebrows at her. She seemed to wilt like a flower.

"The best I can." Her voice was like a whisper at this point.

"Well then..." I looked at her from head to toe, observing how petite she was. Fragile. Weak. She seemed to sense my gaze and clammed up. "...Good luck with that." I sneered. And just like that I moved around her and walked straight down the steps back into town.

As I said before: our exchange had been brief. Nothing really happened between us other then introductions – and that's why I've stressed the importance of it. It wasn't until much later that I felt anything for the farmer, and it's _important_ to note that how we met was simple. No spark. No fireworks.

I can't say that I regret speaking to her in such a way, but I do feel some guilt now that I know some things that I didn't know then. I hadn't been the only towns-person to receive her so ill-like, but I had probably been the most honest and harsh. I feel a mixture of shame and pride for that, which is very difficult for me to describe.

Many villagers gave her weak smiles and false hope in the first few weeks of spring, which I'm sure had been both helpful and disheartening at the same time. They spewed lovely lies at her. I understand why, now. They wanted her to stay. They wanted her ideas to stay fresh and new. Even if they thought her struggle would be in vain (as I did), many hoped that it would bear fruit for all of us – so to speak. In a way I think that's why she was so successful at first. She believed there was a chance when many of us had already given up.


	2. Chapter 2

**FIRE**

Spring is often romanticized as the season of renewal and rebirth. In hindsight, sitting atop and retracing the paths I took, I guess spring truly _is_ where it all began. I couldn't see that then, but I see that now.

Fire: The most basic and primitive tool that mankind utilizes. We were without it for nearly half a year. The only sustainable fire anyone could muster was the small spark or flame and it just wasn't enough. Despite the lack of rain it seemed the wood was always too wet or the sparks just wouldn't catch quick enough. I had been reduced to making sandwiches with only one piece of bread or meager salads that consisted of hardly anything. It was tiring making the same thing day in and day out, but it was the only thing left. If I didn't eat those, I would have starved.

I'm still not sure how, but I think Hikari had something to do with the fires lighting up again. On the day the fire came back to Castanet, she was running around to everyone's home and urging them to try lighting their stoves, just one more time. Many protested but after a while they gave in. I remember when she knocked on my door vividly, as if it had been just yesterday.

I feel that I must mention that I'm not a man who is easily impressed or surprised.

On that day, she did both.

The rapping of knuckles on my door that day didn't really surprise me, though I admit I was quite curious as to who might visit me so early in the morning. I had never had the terrible misfortune to receive visitors since I moved in since I had always been regarded as an 'outsider' to many of the townsfolk. Needless to say, I was dreading whomever was on the other side of the door.

When I opened it she gave me one of her meek smiles and asked if she could come in. I refused her request on the condition that she tell me why she was here in the first place and – And...I'm doing it again, aren't I? Summarizing, I mean.

Alright. Here we go. This is how it happened, even though it may not be quite word for word:

"Can I come in?" She said, her eyes twinkling with hope. She seemed like she wanted to jump out of her skin and float away. I hadn't seen such an attitude in anyone for over a year, and if I was being honest I'd tell you that it was a bit jarring.

"Why are you here? Tell me that first, and then I'll decide." I blocked the doorway with my body, leaning forward towards her and letting my arms take up my weight. "It's quite disconcerting to have someone in your home unless you know them well, and so I'd like there to be a good reason." Her attitude didn't change at my words.

"Light your stove." She said simply, a grin threatening to take over half of her face. I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Doesn't work. I told you that already, didn't I? As I'm sure many others have also said."

"That may be true, and that may have been true _yesterday,_ but today is a new day. Just try. Please?" She urged, her small hands balling into fists at her chest. I clenched my jaw.

"Why should I? I've tried every day for the past few months. How do you know it'll be any different?" Like any normal person, I didn't like failure then, and I still don't. Every time I failed in lighting the fire of the stove it was like another tick against my sanity. I didn't need one more, especially one so unnecessarily earned.

"Just trust me, okay? C-can I come in now?" I felt my eyes squint, trying to find any hint of insanity or jest on her face, but her nervousness and excitement were genuine.

"Fine." I hit the wooden frame of the front door with my palm as I pushed myself upright and straight on my feet. I moved to the side as she briskly walked in, so quick as if she was afraid I would change my mind – not an entirely unfounded fear, if I may say.

She looked around my home, which made me feel quite vulnerable and uncomfortable. I cleared my throat to draw attention to myself and her eyes immediately fell back to me. I walked towards my kitchen and stood in front of my stove, then I turned on the burner. The gas danced in it's usual sheer waves under the metal cage and I lit a match. I heard her move closer to me as I ignited the gas. She clapped her hands excitedly a few times as it stayed lit, but I held my hand up to silence her; I had gotten quite a few false alarms like this before. The gas would ignite but the flame would only last a short while before it festered and died out. I watched the stove for nearly a full minute in silence, my hand slowly falling back to my side as the seconds went on.

I knew the shock of the miracle I had just seen was all over my face as I turned to meet her goofy grin. "H-how did you-?" I stammered out stupidly.

"I dunno, I just woke up today and a little voice in my head told me to try to get everyone to light their fires." She tapped on her temple. I felt my body tense.

"A voice?" I blinked rapidly, as if what she said was a speck of dust in my eye. "Like, a _voice?" _ I repeated. She wilted like a flower again.

"Well, I don't mean that I literally heard a voice-" she laughed nervously, "But...Like..._Intuition_ I guess?" She shrugged. "I don't know. I just...Felt something. So I did what my gut told me to do. And...Well...Everyone's home and business I've gone to has fire now."

"Everyone?" I breathed out, my voice laced with disbelief. I fell back, my body leaning onto my kitchen counter, still in shock over what had just taken place.

"Yes." She nodded, her brown curls bobbing with her head. "I'm sorry to have bothered you and come to your home without being invited, but I figured this was pretty important."

"Yes...Important..." I muttered, still not quite understanding anything that was happening. I gathered my thoughts for a few moments before I ran my fingers through my bangs and straightened. I cleared my throat before speaking once more: "Yes, well, uh...I suppose I should thank you? I'm not sure...I guess I'm not sure what for, but thanks seem to be in order, right?" I crossed my arms. She seemed to perk up again.

"Oh, you don't have to thank me. I-I'm not sure that I had much to do with it, other than telling people to try again..."

"Yes, well..." I shoved my hands into the pockets of the black dress pants I had been wearing that day. "Either way."

"..." We stood in awkward silence for a few moments before she backpedaled to the door. "Well, I still have a few more stops before I get to work today, so...If you don't mind...?" She gestured to the door with her head.

"Oh, right..." I moved swiftly to get the door for her – after all, it was the gentlemanly thing to do. I may have a cold heart, but I do have some semblance of manners tucked away here and there. "Um...Y-yes. Have a good day, I suppose." I stammered, pushing open the door. We were in close proximity as she shuffled past the frame, and I couldn't help but notice the freckles dotting her nose and cheeks as she smiled at me again.

"Have a good day, Chase. With the fires on, you can continue your work at the bar, right?" She walked backwards, heading down the path to the shop next to my home. The shop, if I may digress for a moment, was a seed and produce shop. It used to have an assortment of fresh ingredients at relatively low prices and was often regarded as being a sort of grocer – however, in those days, the displays were always quite barren. Anyways, she was heading towards there when she spoke up again: "I'd love to try some of your cooking."

"Well, I suppose...You could stop by and order something, then."

"I will!" She waved goodbye to me. I shut the door.

That night, I remember going into work, and everyone in town seemed to be excited and happy. The smell of smoke and fragrant woods and incense permeated the air. People were all abuzz about how Hikari had told them to light their fires that morning – and in a way, the fires that had been set ablaze weren't just in their stoves or their heaters; it was in their hearts. It seemed that she had ignited their hopes and passions once more, thawing what had been frozen during the winter. I was still on the fence about her presence, and wary of what exactly she had managed to spark, but I was pleased that I could now continue my training and my job.

Owen had been in the bar that night, talking to the blonde waitress whose father owned the establishment. I mention this because he had been talking to her about the mines being operational and the smiths starting business up again in the morning. He'd have a job again. The point of that is many people could get on with their lives now that the fires had been restored. Through all the clinking of glasses and bubbling of soups and stews that night, I could hear that 'Hikari' was the name on everyone's lips.

In those days I didn't watch the mayor's son blab about the town news on the tv; No, I got my news straight from the mouths of the villagers themselves. I knew many things, and as an outsider it was like looking into a whole other world from my kitchen. I knew what events were coming up, where rumors began and ended, who liked who, and various other tidbits of information. I knew who was visiting the bar at the time and how they were feeling by what they ordered each night. I knew these people better than their best friends did.

Humanity had always disappointed me. Did I say that before? We are animals so smart and so gifted among creatures and yet we chose to fester in our own individual filth. Collectively stabbing and patting each other on our backs, procreating with hardly any rhyme or reason other than to continue on a surname that means nothing, trying to make rocks bleed and birds sing to _our_ tune. Animals so silly that we care about how many pieces of paper we own –either literally or electronically– the very same creatures who can afford to be constantly in a state of boredom or hysteria. Do you get what I mean? We have so much potential and yet we only care about ourselves. Everything we do is selfish in one way or another. It's how we evolved; self-preservation: both necessary and awful.

I am privy to the watering hole that humanity gathers at, sharing their stories, ideas, and diseases. I am simultaneously disgusted and intrigued by the exchanges that take place in the bar. Glimmers of hope and smudges of fetid tar smeared against the already tarnished name of 'mankind.'

I mention this because there was another man at the bar that night who served as a painful reminder that the worst was not over. He was a man who was unassuming in those days, one you would not think to have had similar ideas and tastes to me. He understood what _I _understood about the world and humanity – and despite his bright smiles his heart hid a small shadow of sorrow and darkness. You could see it in his eyes sometimes when he was deep in thought, staring into a cocktail as if he could read something in the glass.

His name was Luke. In many ways he resembled his father, though I heard around his eyes he was like his mother. In some ways we were similar in that aspect; raised by a parent who could only see what they had lost in their partner. His father had fared far better than my mother had, though, and even though their relationship had scars of strain, you could tell that they were close.

It was one of those days that he was staring into his glass, and despite all the jovial feelings and voices around him he seemed to have a cloud of despair. I think that's why he was sitting alone that night. I could barely bring myself to speak to him, but in hindsight I'm glad that I did.

"...I suppose you've heard about the fires, then?" I muttered, cleaning a glass while I was supposed to be on break. The bar was quite lively for once, and the bar maid became overwhelmed and needed help to clean dishes. She offered to pay me overtime that I desperately needed if I were to give up my break to assist her. Of course I agreed.

The blue haired man looked up at me with his yellow-amber eyes and gave me a smile. "I did. It's a good thing. We can cook good meals again, and we'll finally sell some more firewood, though I don't know how long it will last."

"What do you mean? Are you afraid the fires won't last?" If I had to admit I was nervous to put out the light of the stove in case it had been a one off thing. After Hikari had left my home I had systematically turned off and turned on the fire to make sure it hadn't been.

"No, not the fires." He shook his head. "I mean the firewood. Sure, we have a stockpile, but I'm afraid to cut more trees down. They grow slowly in the best conditions and...Well...As you know, the soil here isn't so good anymore."

"Oh, right." I nodded. "You should inform the mayor about that. I feel that people will go crazy now that we have the fires again. They might use up all the rationed wood we have left."

"...I just came from there, actually." He looked down into his glass again, his grin fading. "Gill...Well...You know. They'll have a news story about it tonight and tomorrow morning. But...I...I just...I hate to put a damper on everyone's spirits." With that, he lifted the glass, his calloused fingers curling around the curves of the antique. He swirled the liquid inside before he downed the contents in one swift gulp. "Glad to see you working again." He muttered, using the back of his arm to wipe his mouth. He slapped down money for the drink and slid off the stool. "See you." He sighed. I watched him weave through the ecstatic crowd before exiting through the large oak doors.

When he left I felt all the emptiness of the cheers and laughter that echoed all around me. The restoration had just begun, and yet it felt like nothing had been accomplished.

When I finally got home for the night, I decided to to turn on the TV and watch the local news. Gill sat in his usual chair blabbering on about something about the season and allergies before he started talking about the miracle that happened early this morning.

"As everyone knows," He began, "The new resident farmer Hikari came knocking on our doors this morning and urged us to light our fires. To many people's surprise, as well as my own, it worked. Here's what she had to say on the matter." The screen cut to Hikari with a microphone in front of her face. She smiled awkwardly at the camera and leaned into the microphone. She breathed and it made a weird noise so she backed away from the device.

"Uh, well, I just sorta...I thought that maybe today was the day, you know?"

"And how did you know that today was the day?" Gill asked in his usual monotone voice.

"Uh...I don't...Really...Know..." Hikari's face was red. The screen cut back to the 'studio' as he continued.

"And there you have it. It's a mysterious miracle. Oh, and I would also like to thank Luke from the carpenter's for reminding all of us to keep rationing our firewood." He paused to take a deep breath, "Public Service Announcement: Please listen. I know it's very exciting to have the fires back in our homes, but my father – I mean, Mayor Hamilton – would like us all to keep our usage to one or two logs a day. Thank you. End of Public Service Announcement. And now for the weather-" I shut the TV off. It was an older TV, so it hummed and the picture didn't quite leave until a few seconds later.

Now I remembered the real reason why I didn't watch the local news. It was dreadfully dry and boring. Gill was possibly the most boring man who I'd ever had the misfortune of meeting. He was like an old man trapped in a young man's body. He liked drinking tomato juice for breakfast for Goddess sake. I found him to be far too crass on most days and when I was feeling particularly terrible I found him to be downright snooty and too old-fashioned. Seeing his face or even just mentioning his name sent me reeling. I suppose it was because we were a lot alike. I had learned that the world was not kind to people with opinions as strong as mine, so I often preferred to keep to myself; as did he. When we were forced into social situations it was like smashing two pieces of flint together.

But I digress. As I ventured into town the next morning to meet Yolanda at the Inn to start up my training again, I noticed the town was quiet once more. The upbeat tones yesterday where only echoes in my ears. Things resumed the same as they always had been for a few weeks before I noticed the windmill was up and running again. I didn't hear about what happened until I went to work that night.

* * *

><p><strong>WIND<strong>

Did you ever hear the phrase: "The winds of change?" It means something big is about to happen. The beginning of a new thing. An event or an era or something of the like. That had been the title of the article in the newspaper back when they erected the big windmill over two hundred years ago. It was framed in the Mayor's office. I had seen it back when I was moving in. It was also the newspaper headline when the windmill started working again.

The big windmill in Flute Fields had always been a sort of tourist attraction for the town. It had two main purposes that served the people of Castanet; One was milling, and the other was generating electricity.

The homes and businesses of Castanet finally upgraded to electricity only about thirty or fourty-some odd years ago. It's why many –if not all– homes are still heated by wood-burners and have either gas or wood stoves. It's why many of the shops close around sunset – it's a habit that hasn't been shaken quite yet. I'll say right now that coming from the city and adjusting was a little difficult. The telephones we had were landlines and the internet was something that hadn't caught on in the little coastal town. In a way I sort of enjoyed living that way. I had no use for such trivial things and social media had not been something I wanted to partake in. TV was a luxury that all the people had as well as DVD's and things of the like, and I did see some of the local kids play with hand-held video games a few times, but other than that living on Castanet was almost like taking a step through time. I think that's why people liked visiting.

The point is that electricity wasn't _quite_ a necessity, but it wasn't something that was largely regarded as foreign or _unnecessary. _And since the wind had stopped blowing hard enough to power the windmill, It was rationed quite strictly by the Mayor. Usually the only lights to be seen anywhere in town during the evenings came from the bar's windows. Even then, the light came mostly in the form of the candles on the tables and not by the (usually dimmed) chandelier artfully made of deer antlers that hung from the ceiling.

I only had my lights on for a maximum of twenty to thirty minutes at night as I got ready for bed. Many other villagers had grown accustomed to falling asleep early around sunset. I would assume the same would have pertained to me if it weren't for my job keeping me up late until after midnight. The trek home was one that I had to remember by heart in those days; it was pitch black most nights unless the moon was out and I could have easily fallen off a cliff or headfirst into the ocean. At best I would bump into prickly bushes which still would have been altogether unpleasant – So I always did my best to count my steps and remember to put my hands in front of me and step carefully. Sometimes I would think to bring a lantern with me, but it was useless when the fires wouldn't light. Flashlights were not an option as batteries were considered a luxury and were therefore very expensive. It was certainly easier to make my trip home when the fires came back, but I still had to ration my matches and things. The economy still wasn't quite the same and things were outrageously priced to make up for that.

One morning I woke up to the distant sound of the creaking of the windmill's blades churning just down the road from my home. At first I thought it was just hopeful fancying, but when I looked out my window I could see the tips of the blades over the hill moving languidly. I opened the window and stuck my head out. I felt the breeze hit my face. It smelled of wildflowers and sweet-grass from the fields. I didn't dare turn on the news station, but I did get information while I was working that night.

The man who owned the ranch and the land the windmill sat on happened to be the great great great grandson of the man who built it. His father gave the windmill up to the town to use for electricity with the promise to keep the tradition that anyone who wanted to use the mill could do so for free. He was there talking to a few of the other men who lived in town about how it was operational again. The winds were blowing hard enough to make the blades turn, and when he watched the forecast this morning he saw that the wind's speed seemed to be picking up. He wrote a note to the mayor about it and hopefully everyone would be aware of it soon. Even though the windmill wasn't the sole creator of power around here, it was a major contributor and could even lift the rationing of electricity for the town. He had mentioned he hadn't heard back yet but expected to hear something from Hamilton very soon. People were a little excited about this news, but it didn't really compare to the excitement that they had over the fires.

I took my break that night and went outside for a smoke. Unlike my mother I wasn't a heavy smoker. At the height of my addiction I would smoke about five or six a day, but during the crisis I had lowered my intake to only one or two a day. If it was a one-smoke-day I would smoke it after lunch, just before getting ready to go to work. If it was a two-smoke-day I would smoke after breakfast and before bed. I was finally making enough money to live more comfortably again so I was back up to three smokes a day. I would smoke after breakfast, after lunch before I went to work _or _during my break, then before I went to bed. It was kind of like a way to tell how far I had gotten through the day, like an internal clock. Today I managed to wait until break time to smoke a cigarette, and I'm glad I did.

I was leaning against the side of the building lighting up when Hikari happened to be strolling up to the doors.

"Hey." I called out to her in my languid voice. I let out a puff of smoke as she approached me nervously. "Did you hear?"

"About the windmill? Yes! I did." She put her hands behind her back. "...I came to order something to eat today. I-I know there still isn't much choice in the menu, but I've been wanting food I haven't prepared myself for a while now and...And I can finally afford to go out for once." She explained. I drew in more smoke from my cigarette as I listened to her ramble on. The poison filled my lungs deliciously before I let it out of my mouth in snake-like tendrils. The white ribbons of death caressed my face like an old lover before dissipating and into the purple twilight. Her big brown eyes stopped to watch the smoke rise before my voice brought her back to attention.

"People seem to think you have something to do with it." I drawled. The imagery of the caterpillar talking to a little girl in her wonderland came to mind. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"Is that a statement or a question?" She boldly asked. I felt my mouth twitch up into a smirk.

"A question, I suppose." Hikari was the breath of fresh air I had so desperately been gasping for – even though I hadn't realized I was choking in the first place.

She leaned into me and her small voice dropped into a whisper, "I don't think you'd believe me, even if I told you the truth." Then she leaned back again. I raised my eyebrows.

"I'm intrigued." I admitted. "What _is_ the truth?"

"...Well..." Her eyes fell to her shoes. It was an annoying habit that I wanted to cringe at every time she did it. "...I found this big magic yellow bell on the beach, buried in the sand. It belongs in the windmill, so I charged it with moonlight last night and snuck into the mill to put it back onto its frame. And the fairy that flies around my head told me to do all this." I blinked for a few moments, waiting for her to say something else.

"...Are you serious?" I laughed nervously.

"No." She looked up at me through her eyelashes and smiled. "Almost had you there, didn't I?" I put my hand to my chest and inhaled more poison to calm my nerves.

"For a second there I thought you might be some kind of loon, you know that?" I said, my voice laced with smoke and relief.

"But really," She continued, "I didn't have anything to do with it. The only thing I'm guilty of is letting people know it's up and running again. I was the one who told the ranch owner it was moving this morning. I had been on my way to Fugue Forest when I suddenly felt the breeze pick up, and then I saw the blades turning around and around. In the light of the morning it seemed pretty magical, though, all joking aside."

"I see."

"I'm not sure why people equate me with these things. I'm just trying to do my part to make the world a better place..." She shrugged.

"Well...It seems like since you got here things have been getting progressively better...?" I offered.

"That may be true – but I'm no miracle worker. I'm just another villager, like you, going about my business." She gave me a mysterious smile before she moved and opened the big oak doors to the bar. "Are you nearly finished with break? I'm getting hungry." I threw my cigarette down on the ground and stamped it out with my shoe.

"Yeah, I am."

If I had to guess where it all _started _I'd say it probably happened on this night.

She ordered something mundane and plain and for the life of me I can't remember if it was some sort of soup or stew or something like that – but never the less she ordered it and Kathy brought me the slip and I made it for her. I placed it in front of her and she thanked me kindly before she tasted whatever it was that I had made that night and when she put the spoon to her mouth her whole face lit up.

"This is very good!" She grinned. "I mean, I know you're a chef and all...But..Wow!" I couldn't help but smile a little at her childlike enthusiasm for my cooking. It was always flattering when someone visibly enjoyed it. It means they have good taste. "Is...is that a hint of brown sugar I taste?" She asked, putting a finger to her lips. Now that I think back, I _think_ I had made her some sort of stew.

"That's-!" I stammered, "H-How did you-? That's one of my secret ingredients." I felt my face burn in embarrassment. Had I put too much in my haste? This was terrible and I should just renounce my good name in culinary arts if I-

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ruin the secret." She frowned. "I just have a very good sense of taste for these sorts of things and-"

"No, no, I think that's pretty amazing." I sighed, trying to force myself back into my usual calm and collected composure. "I'm impressed." I admitted. It was the second time she had impressed me. Two more times than everyone I'd ever met. "Do you have an interest in cooking, or something?" I asked. She nodded 'yes,' her brown curls bouncing.

"I love cooking, though I'm not very good at it. I'm much better at eating." She laughed a little to herself.

I glanced quickly around the bar. The tables were slowly growing more empty as the minutes passed. I figured I wouldn't be busy for a while so I knew I could stay and chat. I checked to see where Kathy was. She was on the opposite side of the room, busy clearing a table that had just left. "...You know," I muttered, leaning on the counter, "I could probably teach you a thing or two. About cooking, I mean." I smirked. "Would you like that?"

"Would I?" Hikari grinned.

"Good." I straightened. "Not everyone can be a five-star chef, but I think everyone can cook decently with a bit of patience and practice. The amount needed of both depends on the person." I mused. I turned around and started looking for a pad and paper. I managed to find one behind the counter near the cash register. I scribbled down a simple recipe and handed it to her. "If you can cook this well, you have the basics down. If you can't then we'll have to start at square one. And remember: A good cook follows a recipe; a great cook makes it his own." She looked down at the recipe.

"...Biscuits?"

"Yes, like the kind you use to sop up gravy and things of the like. Very simple. Only four ingredients: Flour, oil, baking powder, water. Should be easy for even a novice cook like yourself."

* * *

><p>She came to me early in the afternoon the next day with a plate in her hands. When she passed it to me I felt how warm it was from whatever was under the foil.<p>

"I...I made what you asked." She smiled a little, looking up at me through her eyelashes. "Can I come in?"

"..." I mulled it over in my brain. She was one of maybe two or three people I actually rather enjoyed talking to in town, so she might as well be considered an acquaintance. "Sure." I moved to allow her room inside. I used my foot to shut the door and she stood awkwardly in my living room.

"A-aren't you going to taste? Maybe just look at 'em?" She wrung her hands nervously. "It's awfully nerve-wracking to have a chef taste your food, you know. You've gone to school for this sort of thing and...Well...I'd like to get it over with."

"...Did you have fun making these?" I asked cryptically, gesturing to the plate in my hand. She nodded yes with a confused face. "That's all that matters, really." I muttered, placing the plate onto my dining table. "Tell me about your experience."

"...My...Experience?" She blinked. I nodded yes. "...W-well...I tried to keep in mind what you said- You know, about the difference between great and good cooks? And...Well...I followed your recipe, but when I made a test biscuit I noticed it was a bit...Dry...So I added some melted butter to it. I made another one and it was good so I decided to add some garlic, onion, and cheese to the mix and...Well..." She gestured to the plate. "I just hope it's not too adventurous." She smiled meekly, sitting down. I sat across from her at my table and opened the foil. I took a piece off of one of the biscuits and chewed it thoughtfully for a few moments, trying to decide if I liked what she presented to me or not.

She leaned forward as I pushed the plate away from me. "You rolled the second batch out too much. The biscuits lose their tenderness with each batch, but you must have rolled the second batch out twice. They're a bit too rough and cake-y. You obviously added more flour after your initial knead, probably due to adding too much melted butter. Next time I suggest doing a little at a time. However-" I cleared my throat. "I applaud your intuition and integrity. Adding what you did made these taste nice."

"So...Did I _fail_ your test?" She furrowed her brow in confusion. "They taste nice but their texture-?"

"You passed." I crossed my arms. "Cooking isn't about being perfect. It's about experimentation and creation. Perfection comes with practice. It's like a science; Even if I were to try a new recipe I would have imperfections. You have to keep things in mind like humidity, the oven, your ingredients, and so on. Even if I were to use the exact same kitchen as the creator of the recipe the humidity could be off and change something about the food. I'm also a different person than the creator. It's all about practice and working with how _you_ make food in _your_ kitchen. Understand?"

"I think I do." She nodded. "It's...Kind of how I grow my crops? Different soils and stuff like that?"

"I suppose." I shrugged. "I don't claim to know much about that sort of thing, but I guess you could liken it like that."

"You're a good teacher." She grinned, her nose crinkling. I was taken aback by her compliment. I focus on fixing my sleeves, which were rolled up as usual.

"You think so?" I managed to say. I had never received such kind words without some sort of link back to my cooking. Her compliment had been directed at _me_, not my skill for my craft.

"Yes. Maybe you could be one, one day."

"I'm a student myself." I shoved my hands into my pockets, trying to seem nonchalant. "I am currently studying under Yolanda. The cook at the Inn. She used to work in five-star restaurants when she was young."

"Oh really!? I would have never guessed." She nodded, taking one of the biscuits from her plate. She took a bite of it and smiled. She was obviously pleased with herself since she took another bite as quickly as she could swallow the first. "She's nice." She remarked.

"Don't let that fool you. She's pretty tough in the kitchen." I muttered. "But yes, she is a nice woman. I'm very lucky to have found her and to have convinced her to let me be her understudy."

"I'm sure." Hikari nodded, finishing off the biscuit. "...So, how's work?" She asked simply. I felt my skin crawl. She was attempting small-talk. I hated small-talk. It felt so..._Impersonal_, though I knew it couldn't be avoided. Small-talk was specifically _for_ people who hardly knew you well.

"...You know, it's quite difficult to speak with someone you hardly know anything about." I remarked with a nervous laugh. The color drained from her face.

"Yes, that's why I've begun asking you questions."

"Oh." I blinked. That wasn't the response I had expected. "...Work is doing fine, I suppose. Though the crops aren't fairing any better or worse than before, and there's no fish to sell or catch so...Not much ingredients to work with..." I trailed off. Like I said before, I hate small-talk.

"...Aren't you going to ask how work is going for me? That's how these conversations go, right?" She smiled. I felt my hand reflexively go through my bangs.

"Y-yes, how is your farm?" I blushed with embarrassment.

"It's going well!" She beamed with pride. "I've got a lot of crops starting to grow ripe. I should be making quite a good sum soon, I think. I've got a cow and a sheep and a few chickens, so that helps stave off the looming threat of poverty."

"That's nice." I nodded.

"If I have any extra I could give you some to cook with. As a consolation you could share with me what you make. Does that sound like a good deal?" Her freckled cheeks turned pink as she gave me another one of her meek smiles.

"That does."

"Then we have a deal. C-can you continue to teach me some things about cooking, too?"

"Sure, I guess." I shrugged.

"You don't have to if you don't want to." She said, looking down at her hands. I wanted to cringe again.

"It's fine. It's nice to teach someone who is eager to learn. Unlike Maya." How I despised that woman. She was constantly whining and her voice was grating to my ears. She always wanted me to make her something to eat or cook something special just for her. She was a maid as well as a waitress at the Inn, but she never seemed to be doing any work – even when Castanet was still thriving. She was always in the kitchen pestering Yolanda and I whenever I would be training. The worst part was she seemed to always act like a child – and even then that was an insult to kids. Paolo was probably more mature than her.

"Oh, the girl at the Inn?"

"She can't cook at all. Remember how I said you have to have patience and practice? Well she needs more practice and I'm all out of patience." I sighed. "I think she pretends to be awful at cooking so she can talk to me more often and-" I stopped abruptly, realizing I had started talking familiarly with someone who I hardly knew. "...Well. I only hope she pretends." I cleared my throat again.

"She seems like a nice girl. I think she probably likes you." She leaned her face on her hand.

"Me? I doubt that." I laughed nervously once more. "If you haven't noticed, I'm not very popular around here."

"I think so. I don't know if you know, but people really appreciate you being here. You provide them a luxury that isn't easily obtained. Your cooking is fantastic and-"

"That's not _me_, though, is it?" I sighed, "That's my _cooking_ and-"

"It's _your_ gift. And in a way, it _is_ you, right? I was always told that cooking is like putting your love and soul on a plate. And if you don't do that then you won't be a good cook. You see, my mother was a good cook... But sadly I got my father's talent for it. That is is to say, none..."

"..." I didn't know how to respond. For the first time in my life I had been rendered speechless. Hikari represented the small glimmer of hope that humanity had left. A diamond among the coal. "...I think you're a pretty good cook." I said after a long silence, choosing to leave my response for what she had said for a later date. "-You follow directions rather well, at least. If you want to get better...How's this?" I leaned forward and she gave me her full attention. "I give you one recipe to try every week and then you show me your work. When you do well I'll give you a new recipe and so on until I think you've learned everything there is to know. Would you like that?"

"Yes!" She clapped her hands. "And in return you can use my extra crops to cook and share!"

"Sure." I felt my mouth twitch into a smile. It was probably the first genuine smile I had across my face in a long time.

* * *

><p>And so we did do as planned. It went on like that through the rest of spring and summer. I'll be the first to admit it was actually quite fun to teach her new things. It helped me stay creative and fresh in my craft and it helped her go from being a novice cook to one of at least intermediate level. I wasn't teaching her things that would make her last at least one second on the floor of a restaurant – but I was helping her understand the things she needed to know to make...Say, a very good meal for herself or guests or maybe even a small get-together.<p>

Eventually she would come by my house even when she hadn't prepared a recipe I had given her to try. I'd show her different techniques and things to practice at home and then we would eat whatever we had decided to make together. Cooking had always been the one and only thing I drew joy from, but now I drew joy from having Hikari over and sharing with her as well. For the first time there was laughter in my heart and home.

I said this before and I'll say it again. I cannot pin-point exactly when I fell in love with her, but I knew it had to have been during this time. I will say that our conversations and exchanges _should_ be transcribed here as they have been etched in my mind, however for the sake of time and fairness I will omit all unless I must refer back to one later; In which case I shall summarize the important bits.

My heart – which had been hardened to the world by disappointment and filled with plaque by poisonous smoke – had become putty in her hands in those few short weeks. Even now I remember them fondly; smelling of orange peels drying in the summer sun and sweet tea. If I could relive them, I would.

But...I suppose I should back up and talk about the revival of the water on Castanet, shouldn't I?

Towards the middle of summer I heard that the oceans and lakes and rivers had suddenly sprang to life, which was not only good for the watermills and hydro-powered generators, but also good for the fishermen.

There was one group of fishermen who benefited greatly from the water clearing and becoming abundant once more.

The Fishery had a duel purpose in Castanet: The main one was a fish market and the other was the bait and tackle shop. Most of the townspeople bought fresh fish for meals and such, including myself – but some of the older villagers, usually the elder gentlemen, would sometimes buy bait and go off to try and catch their own for hobby.

I had no interest in this sort of thing – I had no time or patience for the sport and the chances of catching a fish up to my standards for cooking was too low for me to care to even try. I had visited the shop many times for various reasons: usually to buy something in particular for a recipe or to confirm an order of supplies for the bar. It was for this reason that I became acquaintances with the men at the shop, especially the young man who often helped me carry odd crate or two full of fish that the bar had ordered for the menu...


	3. Chapter 3

**WATER**

Water is often referred to as the life force of the earth. There was a man I knew who had it coursing through his veins. He was a very zen sort of creature, eerily at peace with all in his past and future. I envied his peaceful nature, though I did not share his sentimentality or world-views. He believed that mankind was intrinsically good, not evil.

His name was Toby.

I mention him because he was in the bar the night that the water sprang back to life. He was as excited as I could tell he had ever been, though he still seemed outwardly calm. He smelled of saltwater and sand as he walked to the counter, his voice like the breeze that pushed and filled the sails of the boats of sailors back towards home.

"Chase." He waved to me, "How nice it is to see you back behind the counter. I'm sure it gives you much joy to be cooking again." He then gave me the smile he always wore on his face.

"Yes, it does." I nodded.

"Have you heard? Business is going well! We came back today with enough fish to nearly sink the boat." He smiled even wider, his narrow eyes squinting shut. The way his skin crinkled around his eyes reminded me of tertiary streams. Happiness was gathered instead of sediment there. "I know you'll be pleased to know that we'll be selling some to the inn and to the bar. I'm sure you'll come by and pick some fish up for home as well. I know how much you must miss cooking with actual food."

"I'll have to have a look at what sort of fish you caught, I suppose. Maybe I'll buy some."

"That would be nice." He paused for a moment before it seemed he remembered something. "Do you want to know something funny?"

"What's that?"

"I heard a song today that I hadn't heard in a long time, and I can't put my finger on where it's from. I know you live out in Flute Fields so you probably didn't hear it, but Paolo was telling me earlier that Hikari had helped him play the song we all heard today...Do you know where the fountain is of the fish pouring water out of its mouth over a piano in town?"

"Yes, I think so." I furrowed my brow. It was near the Fishery and the stairs.

"Paolo told me he set up a game with Hikari and they played it this afternoon, just before I went off on the boat. It played the song, I heard it and...You know, here's the funny part: Hikari told Paolo that she had to go off and do something right after – and very soon, right as we were shoving off, we all heard a bell chime. Suddenly the water sprang back to life."

"...That's certainly...Uh-" I cleared my throat. I was unsure of what he was trying to get at but-

"Well, have a nice day." He moved away from the counter in his usual airy fashion.

"Aren't you going to order anything?" I called out to him, already knowing the answer.

"I only wanted to have a chat with you." He waved his hand to dismiss any silly ideas, "Maybe tomorrow I'll order something." I knew he wouldn't order anything the next day, either. He was the sort of man that took joy in preparing his own meals, even if they were standard or even sub-par. I understood that joy intimately. He was a man who didn't sit well being inside for too long, so he pushed through the oak doors and walked out into the warm summer air where he belonged.

Early the next day I decided to teach Hikari how to pick out good fish to cook with. At this point it was more of an excuse to be with her than an actual lesson, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Toby! I'm happy to see you." Hikari gave the fisherman a friendly hug, much to my chagrin. "I heard that you had a good catch yesterday! Chase here is going to teach me how to choose and cook fresh fish today." She pushed her thumb in my direction. The man turned to me and waved.

"Hello Chase. Oh, Hikari, since you'll know the delights of preparing fish, I'm sure you'll want to learn how to fish better. If you ever want fishing lessons, I'd be happy to teach you."

"Okay! That sounds really good." She beamed at him. It always disappointed me to see that she treated everyone with the same kindness she afforded me, though it was also nice to see that she was exactly what I thought she was; a glimmer of hope. She seemed to be the most unselfish person I had ever met. Toby came a close second, now that I think about it.

But I digress. I taught her what to look for in fish from the market and we went back to my home. I remember walking with her so closely that our shoulders brushed a few times. She had been chatting to me about familiar things while we walked, like how her farm was doing and whom she had spoken to earlier in the week. I loved hearing her voice. It reminded me of rain hitting against tin rooftops in the spring. In fact, everything about her was like spring. She had the power to refresh and renew your soul with just a few sweet words. She even smelled of wildflowers and freshly dug up dirt in a strawberry patch. Not mud, but the rich black earth that always smells like peat and leaves.

When we had finished eating what we had made together she took her plate to my sink and began to speak with her tinkling voice.

"Chase, I'm glad we became friends." She put the dish in the drying rack next to mine and turned to me. "...We _are_ friends, right?" She asked shyly, looking up at me through her thick eyelashes.

"...Yes, why?" I crossed my arms out of habit and she seemed to take this as defensiveness.

"No, I know. You're right. I'm just glad, is all." She affirmed, leaning against the counter. "It's just...My wish when I came here was to start fresh and make the world a better place. Sometimes I don't think I'm doing enough, though. What do you think?" Her chocolate candy eyes stared right into mine. I couldn't bear her gaze and slowly let my eyes drift to the ceiling.

I wanted to say so much. If there is anything I regret between Hikari and I it's this moment here. I wanted to say how I felt about her so badly, but I was afraid my affections would not be returned. It was the first time I had ever felt this way towards another human being and I was afraid to mess it up. All I really knew at this point was that if I had to cook for and see someone everyday for the rest of my life, it was her. I wanted to say that I thought she made the world a better place just by existing and breathing, but I just couldn't. "...I think you're doing a good job. You work really hard." I shut my eyes tightly for a moment, trying to blind myself from the shame I felt deep inside of me. I had never been a man to mince words – In fact, I always prided myself in the fact that I had always spoken my mind. And yet when it was most important I couldn't say what I truly felt. When I opened my eyes again she was smiling brightly.

"That means a lot to me, especially coming from you."

"...Good." I sighed, still disappointed in myself for what had just happened. "I'm glad."

"Well!" She clapped her hands together and straightened, "I have a busy day tomorrow. Summer's half-way over with and I have my first real harvest coming up real soon." She walked over to the door and I opened it for her. It was my least favorite ritual between us. Doing so meant I would have to wait several hours or even a whole day or two before I saw her again. Before I heard her voice or saw her smile again. "See you." She stepped through the threshold and I shut the door behind her.

I feel that it's important to mention that when the waters revived and the wind picked up the soil quality slowly improved, but not much. Things were growing instead of dying but what was produced was still very poor. When the drought ended and the water refreshed the parched earth it seemed like things were finally looking up.

The hydro-powered generators and watermills were fully operational before the week was out. The ban on using too much electricity had been officially lifted, though the ban had been essentially removed back when the windmill started turning. Boats began moving back and forth and people started coming to visit again. Goods were imported and exported and gave people the boost that they needed, though much of what came in was more expensive than if it would have come locally. It seemed to balance out the small gain the town had received, but nevertheless you could tell spirits had been lifted.

It rained for much of the latter part of summer, even a few big storms. Thankfully no crops or buildings had been destroyed – the town may have been doing better, but things were still in short supply. The economy still hadn't quite received the kick it needed due to the structure of itself. You see, at the base were the farmers and ranchers. They were like the grocers that fueled the rest of the pyramid. Next you had the laborers and necessary workers: The smith, the carpenters, the doctor, the miners, the fishermen, and the tailor. Then you had the luxury things: The general store, the jewelers, the inn, the bar, and the fortune teller. The base was still cut off and so the rest were still suffering.

Sure, fire, wind, and water were important to town, but the most important thing to revive had yet to be. The soil. If the land was a person then you could akin the revival at this point to having the arms and legs fully operational. The soil was the brain, and without the brain the rest were still quite useless. It had been the first to go and the last to return.

* * *

><p><strong>EARTH<strong>

No one had suffered the town's decline more than the farmers or the carpenters. And when _they_ were suffering, the whole town felt the consequences.

The cost of firewood was steadily increasing due to dwindling stockpiles. We used our wood-stove and smoker at the bar for many specialty items, which in turn caused prices to hike up. They were already higher than normal due to the price of ingredients such as fish and crops and things like that. The economic crisis was slowly easing when the price of fish lowered over the course of a few weeks, but the local crops were still not doing so well and the farmers had been forced to downsize their fields. Smaller amounts planted meant even less to be harvested, and much of it had to go to their family's stomachs instead of on the market. So in turn the boats had to bring in much of the produce we normally bought locally. Prices remained sky-high and in turn the townspeople bought even less to eat. Many people had even stopped coming into the bar for _food_, which meant less money for me.

I stress the word food because many people managed to come in for a drink or two during the weekends. During times like that I suppose even a little entertainment was a luxury that couldn't be spared. It offered a distraction, I suppose. It helped that the bar had gained another employee who generated her fair share of tips and revenue – she was an exotic dancer from the Toucan Island. Many of the men – married or not – like to watch her while they shared news and drank.

One of these men was Luke. I mentioned him before, but I didn't quite share all my thoughts about him. If people were like plants, Luke was an oak tree. He was a sturdy and strong man. It took a lot to make him fall – and if he fell, he fell hard. I mean that in both love and loss. Many in town regarded him as a stupid man, though kind and charismatic. I had not been one of the many.

During the crisis I had seen a change in him, though. His usual jovial nature had been replaced with introversion and retrospection.

I say that he came to see the dancer named Selena, but that's not entirely true. I think he mostly came to have a change in scenery – to get away from the glaring truth that his family business was slowly capsizing and he was powerless to stop it. All of his strength and spirit could not amount to anything useful and he was lost.

I mentioned that many thought him to be the town's fool and that I had largely disagreed with those that did. This is true and still remains true. I did not think his 'never-give-up' attitude was silly or childish, even when all hope seemed to be lost. I did not think that a man so easily impressed with life's smallish accomplishments was a mark of stupidity. He was, now that I reflect, probably one of the glimmers of hope I had seen in humanity. This was a man who was creative as well – If I understood anything about Luke as a person it was the creative spark and passion he had. I saw a little of myself in him whenever I would see him sitting in front of his father's shop – the one that would be his one day if things went well again. I would pass the shop every time I would walk to the general store, and every time since the crisis had began I saw him whittling away at small blocks of wood and turning them into small figurines. It seemed to calm him as cooking calmed me. The repetitiveness of following a recipe soothed me, and whittling was just the same for him.

Thinking back now as I say this, I understand why many things happened the way they did.

He had been there when I heard of the miracle at Marimba Farm. Craig came tumbling in just after the bar had opened for the evening, sputtering something about a bell and the plants.

"Th-the bell! The bell that was stolen-! I-it's back!" He panted, collapsing onto the counter.

"Do you know who returned it?" Luke spoke up, cocktail in hand. He had ordered a coconut cocktail that evening, which meant that his spirits were lifted more than usual.

"I-I dunno! It just sort of...Appeared! This morning, when I went out to the fields I saw it hanging in it's frame! I-I mean, the only person who had a key to the gate was – was –!" His face turned paper white. I was felt myself clam up as his shaking hand pointed to me. "H-hikari! _His_ girlfriend!"

"-Hikari is not my girlfriend-!" I stammered out quickly, but Luke had already began talking.

"She must have found it and returned it anonymously. That bell has been missing for years- she probably didn't want people making a big fuss out of it."

"She seems to have had a hand in everything lately, hasn't she?" The older man wiped his brow with his raggedy plaid hat, wicking off the shining sweat on his forehead. "Isn't that a little suspicious to you-?"

"What, it's not like she was the one that made our town go to the dogs, is it? If anything we should be thanking her." Luke muttered. "Seems like since she got here things have been getting better, right Chase?" His amber eyes slid to me. I nodded deftly, still a bit defensive after Craig accused Hikari of being my girlfriend. Did people really think that? Was it that obvious that we-

"I suppose your right. I dunno, I'm just...I'm just trying to make sense of the whole thing...I-I mean, I didn't even tell you the most strangest part! The plants...The seeds I had planted sprouted today. I don't think that's a coincidence! I-I mean, did you hear the chimes this morning?" Luke furrowed his brow and shook his head 'no.' "What about you, Chase? You live right next door!" He turned to me again, his gestures verging on manic.

I thought back to early this morning. I had thought I had heard a sweet song on the wind, but I had thought it was coming from the shop next door, not some long-stolen antique bell. And certainly I didn't think that Hikari had anything to do with something so random.

I massaged my temples for a moment before I spoke. "I did hear something, yes, but I don't think Hikari had anything to do with it. What if whoever stole the thing in the first place decided to put it back for some reason? They stole it before without using a key to your gate. I'm sure they could put it back just the same."

"But why now?" Craig pressed. "It's no coincidence if you ask me."

"So _what_ if Hikari was the one who found it and put it back? She obviously wasn't the one who stole it – that bell was stolen years before she even arrived. I just think that she probably wanted to keep quiet about it." Luke sighed. "After all, people have been making a big deal about her helping out the last few times big events have happened here. And if the bell being back somehow makes the trees and crops grow again, then so be it. Who cares, anyways?"

"...I...I suppose..."

"Luke is right." I nodded. "Everyone benefits from this so it doesn't matter. I don't really believe that some old bell is to the reason why the land is suddenly better but-"

"You know what? I should probably tell the mayor about all this..." Craig muttered, obviously uninterested in what I had to say. I suppose it was to be expected – I wasn't from here and people hardly cared for my opinions. And to be honest he wasn't an altogether friendly man anyways, even to his wife. I had watched him spend many nights here at the bar getting quite wasted. He always seemed to have a lingering eye on the exotic dancer after a few drinks. In short: the man disgusted me. He took for granted all the nice things he had: a business, a wife, and two children. He was dissatisfied with his life, it seemed – like he had wanted more for himself. More of _what_ I was not sure.

Luke and I watched him leave out of the big oak doors and Luke audibly sighed. "...You know..." The carpenter began, taking his usual seat at the counter, "I used to hear stories about the bells. You're not from here, so you wouldn't really know the legends. My dad used to tell me that the town had five bells, which were created before the town was officiated. They rang them all together when they founded the town, and I guess the original families protected them. Sounds kinda like the start of a totally rad movie, right?" He grinned for a moment before his face became serious again. "...I guess each bell represented something the town needed to survive, and since the settlers were super religious back then the people dedicated their well-being to the Harvest King. I guess, as legend goes, he imbued the bells with his magic and power. Then he planted a tree somewhere hidden from normal people like you and me, and I guess it harnesses the power of the Harvest Goddess. If the town ever lost the bells, then the town would go downhill. Kinda like a curse, you know? And I guess it makes the tree die, and the Harvest Goddess is powerless to stop it unless someone finds the bells and puts them in their rightful place. Nobody really put to much thought into it when the bells went missing one by one... But now that I think about it..." Luke's eyes locked with mine. "Do ya think that's why the town was almost kaput?" His face and tone were serious, but under any other circumstances I would have laughed at him.

"...You don't really believe in that sort of stuff, do you?" I asked, artfully dodging the question. He just smiled and shook his head at me.

"Do you have to believe in something for it to be true or not?"

"But you don't think that Hikari had anything to do with...I dunno, the _magic_ bells and all that?" I grimaced, half-remembering the joke she had told me when the wind had started blowing again. Maybe she had heard about the legend and thought I had. Maybe that's why her joke didn't catch at first.

Magic bells.

Hm. As if.

"I don't know – and to be honest I don't really care. As long as things are back in balance I don't really mind one way or the other. Harvest King, Harvest Goddess, magic bells – hell; even if it were UFO's and aliens! I'm just glad I can start chopping down trees and eat good meals again." He grinned. "And if Hikari had something to do with that, then I guess...Thanks, right?" He raised his glass to salute her and then took a big gulp of the cocktail in his hands.

"I guess." I shrugged. He went silent for a few moments and stared into his drink, which had been nearly depleted.

"...So...What do you think of her?" He muttered.

"...Who, Hikari?" I was hoping that I didn't blush and give myself away. "-She's nice. I've had her over a few times to teach her a few recipes." I shrugged again, hoping the non-committal gesture was enough to throw his scent off my trail. If he was sniffing around, that is.

"...Yeah. She's always smiling. You ever notice that?" I had. "Even when things were real bad, she's always happy to see everyone. I think that's awesome. She's always thinking about other people, too – like giving them gifts and stuff."

"Yeah?" I crossed my arms. I had almost thought I had been special – she often gave me gifts as well. It was disheartening to know I wasn't.

"...Yeah. I think she's pretty cool for a girl." He sighed. "So you guys hang out a lot?"

"W-well, I wouldn't say we hang out a _lot,_" I ran my fingers through my hair nervously, "But-"

"-Does she ever say anything about me?" He interjected, his body language suddenly sheepish and shy. I narrowed my eyes at him.. He liked her, didn't he? But Hikari was _practically_ mine – even Craig had mistaken us for a couple, right? He had no right stepping into my territory.

"-No, why would she?" I answered too quickly. That was a blatant lie; Hikari talked about him as often as she did the other townspeople.

He blinked, obviously recognizing what I was feeling. He held his hands up defensively. "Woah, are you guys like a thing or something-?" Just then the heavy doors creaked open.

"Who's a thing with who?" Hikari questioned, walking up to the counter. "Hi Chase! Hi Luke." She smiled at the two of us, sitting next to Luke at the counter. I distracted myself for a moment by reaching out and manually drying a glass Kathy had left out. "Are we gossiping? I love news about new couples the most. Something is so exciting about new love, don't you think?"

"No-" I answered, but I had been looking at Luke. I hoped he caught that I was also answering _his_ question, and by the way his face relaxed I could tell he did. "-We weren't gossiping."

I said before that I knew he was not a stupid man – but he was perhaps an overly ambitious one.

"It was just speculation, is all. I misheard a conversation earlier and Chase was just correcting me. He knows a lot about the town since he hears everyone's business from his kitchen. Right Chase?" He grinned at me and I nodded.

"Yeah." I put the glass down and picked up a menu and placed it in front of her.

"Yeah, I know. He always has something new and interesting to say whenever we talk. But that's too bad, no new news, huh?" She paused for a beat before she opened up her menu. "So! How's it going today? The question is directed at whoever wants to go first."

"Uh-" I watched her eyes scan the words on the laminated paper for a moment and Luke cleared his throat.

"Well, I can go first I guess. Did you hear about the bell?" I saw an emotion flash across her face for a second before she shook her head no. Her eyes remained on the menu. "Oh! Well it's big news. Someone returned the green bell they had in his fields, and I guess Craig thinks that this means the land will become bountiful again. I can't wait to see if he's right, you know? That means I can get back to work, and then we can all afford good food again! Oh, and of course you'll make more money too, right?"

"Yeah! Wow, that _is_ good news!" She glanced up at him for a moment before resuming her task of looking up something she wanted to eat. "I hope he's right."

"He said he saw sprouts today. Dunno if it's a coincidence or not."

"I saw some wildflowers blooming this afternoon in a spot they don't normally grow! Do you think that's a sign?" She asked excitedly, absentmindedly pushing the menu away from her. "I bet it's a sign."

"Maybe." The blue-haired man shrugged. "I don't care as long as I can chop wood again. My arms are looking kinda lame." He flexed and flashed her a grin. I rolled my eyes as I took the menu from her.

"Okay, so, I'll have some grilled fish, Chase. Now tell me about _your_ day." Both her and Luke looked at me expectantly. I backed away into the kitchen and began searching for the ingredients I needed.

"Uh...Well...I'm pretty boring so-" I said, loud enough for them to hear me at the counter.

"No you're not!" Hikari furrowed her brow. "How can you say that? You're one of the most interesting people in town, silly!" I knew I blushed at her compliment. I could feel the heat all the way to my ears. I was glad I was turned away from them. I began preparing the fish as I spoke.

"W-well, I had a boring day. I trained a little with Yolanda and then I went home for a bit later in the afternoon and played my flute for a bit. That's it." I shrugged, placing the fish onto the grill.

"You play the flute!? Aw man, how cool is that!?" Luke gasped. "-You know what I'd like to play?" In his usual excited fashion, he didn't let either of us guess – though my first guess would have been right. "The guitar. I have an old blue electric one, but I'm terrible at it. I just have no patience for learning an instrument."

"I've never heard him play, but I bet he's good." She thrust her thumb in my direction. "The guy is good at everything he does. Makes me sick." She laughed.

"Yeah, I know right?" Luke agreed with her. I didn't really know how to respond to that sort of thing, so I kept quiet. Hikari broke the silence first, probably thinking I was too busy with her order to engage them any further.

"So, how's your dad doing? I haven't been up to the shop in a while. I know his knee and shoulder have been bothering him." I strained a little to hear their conversation over the sizzling of the fish.

"Yeah, he's doing okay. I think the news about the bell picked him right up. It was just hard, you know? Living like that, I mean. He hasn't complained in a while about 'em anyways.."

"That's good. I should come by tomorrow to say hi. You know..." Her voice dipped lower so I could barely hear. "I really owe a lot to you guys for helping me out when I first got here – especially with how the town has been."

"Aw man, it's no problem." I could hear his embarrassment in his voice. He was probably blushing, too. I angrily jabbed at the fish to turn it. "That's what people should do, you know? Help each other out."

"Yeah, but you guys did it free of charge and-"

"Oh shh. Just don't worry about it. My dad really likes you anyways. He gets so happy when you come in. And then when you leave he can't stop talking about you. It's kinda annoying." The carpenter laughed.

"Really! Wow, that's so nice." She gushed. "I try my hardest to visit everyone at least once a week." I plated her order and placed in in front of her. A few other people had finally arrived at the bar, but Kathy was taking care of them.

The night went on much like that. Hikari lingered for a while even after Luke had left to stay and chat with me and keep me company, but she eventually left and I was alone to reflect.

Much like I'm doing now.

Craig had been correct in his wild assumptions about the land returning to it's once bountiful self. To this day I am still unsure (and generally unconvinced) that it had been some miracle due to antique bells and magic. The people who believed in that sort of stuff were usually people who had lived here their whole lives and believed in the legends their parents had told them.

Luke had been right. It didn't matter how or who did it. Just as long as things were back in balance.

And if Hikari had helped, then...Good.

* * *

><p><strong>WISH<strong>

The heat of summer dissipated quickly as the chill of autumn turned all the trees brilliant shades of red and gold and orange. It had been a particularly cold evening when Hikari came to visit me.

We were walking to the bar just before my shift started, talking about the weather – of all things.

"When it gets colder, I yearn for hot drinks and hearty stews..." I muttered, bringing the mug of hot chocolate Hikari had brought in a thermos.

"...You speak so beautifully, Chase." She sighed. "Has anyone ever told you that? I mean, no one talks the way you do anymore. Well, maybe Wizard comes close but I can barely get him to talk to me..."

"I don't speak beautifully. I speak properly." I grumbled, staring hard into the nearly empty mug in my hands. Why couldn't I just accept a compliment from her? "...But thank you." I added.

"...I like wrapping up in blankets fresh from the dryer. That's what I like to do when it's cold." She played with the ruby pendant around her neck with her free hand. "It reminds me of when I was a little kid." She smiled to herself, lost in thoughts about her childhood. I couldn't help but smile at her, too.

"I think...I think that's lovely." I breathed, watching how the blues and purples of the evening light cast beautiful shadows on her soft face. The streetlights buzzed to life as we crossed the stone bridge and passed the photographer's shop.

"...Chase, can I ask you something kind of...Weird?" She asked in a hushed tone, looking into her thermos. While she waited for my answer she lifted it and drank the rest of what was inside.

"Yeah, I guess." I muttered nonchalantly, but my heart was beating fast. I desperately hoped that she would ask me something about the state of our relationship or something like that. It was hard to gauge where I stood with Hikari since she treated me like everyone else. I suppose that in itself should be a sign.

"...What is your wish? Like, I mean, what is the one thing you want to accomplish while you're here in Castanet?"

"...Well..." I sighed. Obviously it had not been what I had hoped for. "...To finish my training and to be the best cook ever. I want my cooking to make people happy." And by _people_ I generally meant Hikari. She seemed satisfied by my answer.

"...That's a lovely wish." She nodded. I handed her the mug that went with her thermos absentmindedly.

"Why?"

"I'm just trying to figure you out, is all." She looked at me sideways. "I-I'm sorry, but you're more mysterious than you think, you know?"

"Me? Mysterious?" I raised my eyebrows at her. It was almost insulting. I had shared more with her than anybody else.

"You're..." She raised her eyes to the dark sky as she searched for the correct word. "An _enigma_, I guess."

"An _enigma_?" I repeated, tasting the word for myself. I didn't like it. It was too bitter. Maybe I was bitter, too. "I don't think so."

"I hardly know anything about you." She admitted as we were passing the tailors. "I mean, I know some – but it seems like I don't know a whole lot, I guess. It just feels like... I dunno, you're one of my closest friends and yet... I dunno, I guess. It's hard to put how I feel into words."

_'Tell me about it.'_ I remember thinking.

"...What do you want to know? If you don't ask...I probably don't think to mention anything." It was true, too. I tend to think that the present is the only important thing. I didn't dwell on my past or worry about the future. It didn't make me feel at peace, it was just what was necessary.

"...I don't know. Hmm..." She put her finger to her lips. "Favorite color?" How mundane.

"Orange, I guess..."

"What _shade _of orange, though?" She pursed her lips. "_Describe_ to me your favorite color."

"...Orange...Orange like the color of dying leaves with the sun filtering through them in the sunset of a warm fall eventing...Or orange like the pulp of the fruit in a glass, I guess? I never thought about which _shade_..." I crossed my arms, mostly to keep the cold off of my chest. "But yes. I think I like the glow of the warm shade of golden orange." She nodded at my answer, happy that she had made me think. I was quite pleased, too.

"I would've taken you as a man who loves cold colors, to be honest. See? It feels like I don't know you at all sometimes."

"I'm fond of dark blue, too. Like the shade of the night sky?" I looked up. "It's almost black."

"You _are_ a puzzle, aren't you?" She said cryptically. We came to the doors of the bar. I could hear the sounds of music and clinking glasses through the heavy oak doors. The yellow glow from the windows made her face look like the petals of a sunflower.

"What about you?"

"I'm an open book." She sniffed haughtily.

"No, I don't think so. You're nice to everybody, but is _anyone_ special to you?" I could barely believe that I had actually said that to her face. She seemed as surprised as I did and was silent for a few moments to process what I had said.

"...Special?" She let the word drift slowly out of her mouth and she tilted her head as she thought to herself. "Hm...Is anyone special to me?...Well...I don't know. I never thought about it. I guess I'll have to wait til the right guy comes along and whisks me off my feet, huh?" And just like that she turned to open the bar's doors. I had half a mind to grab her by the shoulders and stop her and just tell her how I felt...But it was too late. She was already inside and I was left alone in the dark with only the yellow glow from the windows to keep me company.

* * *

><p>As I sit at the top and trace the paths I've walked I can see clearly where I should have side-stepped away from brambles or clung closer to the sides of cliffs.<p>

It was this moment that I regret the most.

I have and had built her up to be this almost..._Magical_ creature and she had been telling me all along that she was not. That she had just been a normal woman all along.

It is true that we build up people we love, just as it is true that they can demolish us in return.

Hikari is and was very special to me. Like I said before; she was the brightest glimmer of hope I had seen in humanity and in many ways she saved my wretched heart from complete darkness.

I said before that it was natural human nature for self-preservation and selfishness. It is also natural for humans to feel anger and jealousy when we do not get our way. I will say that I was angry at first.

I wanted her to _say_ it. I wanted her to embrace me and tell me that she had loved me all along and reassure me that she had _wanted_ me to sweep her off of her feet. That, in that moment, she was telling me to go ahead and spill my guts. I needed a big sign, not some vague sentence.

Maybe that was my problem. Maybe that's where I failed. Maybe I was so selfish in my desire to not get hurt.

I was so angry with Hikari as I stood there in the darkness. She did not owe me her love because I had been kind to her, no. I was not so disillusioned with myself that I thought something so heinous and selfish as that. I believed she owed me nothing. I think that's what infuriated me. I loved her and I would remain in love with her because my heart told me to do so. I loved her so much that I wanted what she wanted – whatever made _her _happy.

And she did not deserve a coward like me. I see that very clearly, now.

I did not believe myself to be one of those glimmers of hope as I saw in Hikari or Luke or Toby, nor did I see myself as a stain on the marred name of 'mankind.'

I had always fancied myself wandering the wide expanse in between.

I had followed her into the bar with a new sense of understanding. It wasn't all over quite yet, but I knew in my heart of hearts that I would never have her. I knew that I could never tell her how I felt if I didn't know where to start or where I stood with her. And she would never tell me, would she? She wanted a man who would leave all his fears behind for her. In a way it was both childish and wise.

I knew who that man would be, and he wasn't me.

Besides, my one true love was cooking. What-ifs were useless.

I knew that once my training was done I would want to leave Castanet and move on. I couldn't take Hikari with me. She was making this town _her _town, and I had always stood just on the outside, hovering in my own little box, looking in. I had even _prided_ myself that I didn't let people inside of the box.

That's not what Hikari wanted. Her wish...Her wish was making the world a better place, one person at a time. And so she began by making a place of her own, cultivating a community that loved her and that she was a big part of. A place to have a family and live.

I didn't want that. Not yet. Not here. Even if Hikari asked me to, I would have said no. I was still trying to find my place in the world and I felt like I was only truly living while I was in the kitchen. I needed to devote everything to my craft. Heart and soul. Maybe start a restaurant of my own and meet another girl who had the same passion for cooking as I did. As Hikari did.

Her face visibly lit up as she saw him; the carpenter; – the man I knew who would throw all of his fears to the wind for her in a heartbeat – sitting at his usual spot at the counter, genuinely happy to see him. It was the face that she gave me, too. Even now as I reflect it's hard to say if that was a look just for us – two men she loved – if she loved me at all, that is.

I'd like to think so.

The many hours I'd spent with her in the kitchen or taking walks...It couldn't have meant nothing, right? All the times I made her laugh, all the times I made her smile...I'd like to think that meant _something _to her.

Hikari was more complex than I first gave her credit. At first glance she seemed to be this shy girl who was naïve of the world when in fact: She _was_ worldly. Charismatic. Kind. Her brown eyes held the depth of many leagues of the ocean and all the heavens above. It was a gift and a curse that I had spent so much of my time with her.

* * *

><p><strong>THE END...?<strong>

No. It wasn't the end. Winter came but people welcomed it. They didn't have to huddle together or ration electricity or starve like they had the year prior. Things were going exceptionally well – and by the new year I had finished my training.

It had taken six months less than Yolanda first expected, but I was relieved that I could start looking for a new place soon.

Hikari and I met up less and less as the lessons slowly faded, though she would go out of her way most weeks to see me at work or at home once or twice. It was nice seeing her, even though it made my heart ache.

By spring she and Luke had made their friendship into something more, like I had thought they would – though there had been one or two awkward conversations beforehand with him that tipped me off. Luke was a good guy; he didn't want to offend me or step on my toes. And even though we hadn't spoken much before or since, I had told him much of how I felt about her and why I could never be with her.

The whole time he nodded at the right places and listened in silence. After I had finished telling him the story he just stood up and shook my hand. In a way I guess there isn't anything anyone can say to this sort of thing; after all, I had been telling him things he couldn't change.

I'd like to think it was because he understood how hard it had been for me. I was powerless to change the paths Hikari and I walked on, just as he had been powerless to change things around in town to save his family's business.

And when it was time to split...When we came to the fork in the path and I knew her road would not take me where I needed, I had to leave her behind.

And that's where I was that night. Now that I'm here, about to start a new journey with new paths and a different mountain...It makes me feel good to know that I brightened up her day. Shared with her my passion – a part of my heart and soul, as she had said once.

I think she knew I loved her, and that's why she had said what she had said that night. It was such a simple sentence and yet it lead me to think so much about what I was doing in life – where I wanted to go. In a way she was like that sentence: simple yet provoked so much thought.

"Heading to the mainland today, Chase?" Pascal's gravely voice broke me from my thoughts. I smiled plasticly at him and nodded. "You got yer return ticket? Don't want to forget that on yer little...Vacation, is it?"

"No, I'm not coming back." The shock on his weathered and wrinkled face wasn't a surprise to me. But Pascal was a man who understood wanderlust and didn't ask me any more questions.

I hauled the few bags I had up the ramp and onto the boat before I turned to look back at the dock. Hikari was there, looking sad and forlorn. She had come to wait with me but hadn't said a word the whole time. She walked halfway up the ramp and motioned for me to come closer.

"...You sure you have to go...?" She mumbled, her eyes watery. My heart swelled with sadness as I realized this may be the last time I ever saw her in person again. If not for forever, then for a really long time.

"I have to continue on with my training. I'm through with Castanet, now."

"...Don't forget me, okay?" She embraced me, her face buried into my chest. I could smell her perfume and shampoo mixed with the unfamiliar scent of pine.

The carpenter.

It took me a moment to register that she had started sobbing. I didn't know what to do so I just awkwardly wrapped my arms around her the best I could. After a while she looked up at me, her eyes red and her soft face marred by tear stains.

"I won't." I whispered to her, drying her face with my sleeve.

"You'll write to me, right?"

"Sure, if you want."

"Okay." She let me go and walked off the ramp. I waved to her as Pascal pulled the ramp up on board.

This was the start of something new. A new parade of animals to deal with, new smears and glimmers.

And hopefully one day I'd settle down. Hopefully one day I would find someone that I clicked with like I had clicked with Hikari. Someone I could draw joy from.

And I was happy she was happy. If it was truly meant to be, then maybe I'd see her or she'd send for me and we would catch up and talk about the old times when we had spent hours in the kitchen together, and maybe I wouldn't be afraid anymore. And maybe my wish and goals would be completed or change.

And then maybe one day we could be together.


End file.
